


Glimpses of You

by Sehnyusucht



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sehnyusucht/pseuds/Sehnyusucht
Summary: Javi waits.
Relationships: Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu
Comments: 16
Kudos: 86





	Glimpses of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [estriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estriel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [estriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estriel/pseuds/estriel). Log in to view. 



> Hello! This fic was inspired by "When You are Here" by our superb Estriel, where she mentioned how Javi had to quarantine in Toronto before meeting Yuzu. That's what my story is about: Javi's quarantine, although here Javi and Yuzu are a couple already and live together. Please keep in mind that all the rules about quarantine in Toronto are figments of my imagination.  
> As you may suspect, English is not my first language, so please be nice... and enjoy!

_Day 17_

“Yuzu, no. Please.”

“Why not? Habi, is four month that I not see you.”

“You see me every day…”

“Videocall-Habi is not live-Habi, come on!”

“I know, nene, I know, and… look, saying that I can’t wait to meet you doesn’t give you the slightest idea about how I feel. I _need_ to meet you, so badly. But we we’ve waited four months, we can wait fifteen more days, can’t we? Coming to the airport just to catch a glimpse of me while I’m escorted to the quarantine hotel… it’s _dangerous_ , Yuzu.”

“No more.”

“Oh yes it still is. At least, for someone suffering from asthma.”

“I have custom-made mask, Habi, so good. I have procte... protective visor. And gloves. I put three glove on each hand! Okay, Habi? Please.”

“I’ll land in Toronto at 11.30 am. Don’t you have your first training session at 12?”

“Please.”

“…”

“Habi?”

“Oh, what the hell. Okay, Yuzu.”

“Thank you, Habi! Thank you thank you thank you!”

“Don’t thank me. I want to see you too. So much, nene. So damn much.”

_Day 15_

There are about twenty people on the plane.

When they land, a masked and glove-handed flight attendant counts slowly to five before letting each passenger get off. They walk through deserted corridors to the baggage claim, where they stop around the conveyor, everyone careful to keep their distance.

Javi picks his suitcases up, then queues at the customs control, then waits for a border guard to count to five and allow him to go, then walks through another deserted corridor –

– then, he’s in the Arrival Hall.

And Yuzu is in the Arrival Hall.

Wearing what looks like a funny shower cap on his hair, and a large thick mask on his mouth and nose, and latex gloves on his hands, and a protective visor on his eyes.

But Yuzu is in the Arrival Hall.

Javi has to follow the other passengers, to walk between barriers leading to the exit. Yuzu can’t get closer than three or four meters from him, but it’s such a blessing anyway, to see him not through a phone or computer screen.

The way he fills and interacts with the space around him. The light he radiates; the _love_ he radiates, his eyes sparkling like lapilli, his skin lighting up the air.

“Yuzu,” Javi calls, not loud enough to be heard – but there’s no need.

“Habi!” Even Yuzu’s voice is radiating love and light. “I follow with car!”

So there they are, ten minutes later. Javi on a bus, two empty seat rows between each passenger, looking out of the window at Yuzu. Yuzu in the back seat of a car, a plexiglas partition between the driver and him, looking out of the window at Javi.

Yuzu is still wearing his mask and gloves, but he’s taken off the cap and the visor, and he keeps his palms pressed on the glass. Javi does the same, and for an instant – the car riding next to the bus, the sun not reflecting on Javi’s or on Yuzu’s window – for an instant, it’s a bit like pressing their palms together.

_Day 14_

Javi waits.

_Day 13_

Javi has no idea if the whole hotel is reserved for who’s coming from abroad and having to quarantine; he can walk along the corridor of his floor and go to a small parlor where he can watch TV with three other people maximum, buy a cup of coffee or a bottle of water at the vending machine. He’s not allowed to go anywhere else.

His room would look big, if he was here on vacation and could spend his days outside; since he can’t, though, it looks narrow, a bit uncomfortable too: there’s not enough room to do some exercise and training; his three big suitcases always get in his way; the bathroom has not enough shelves and hooks for his things; and the paintings – God, the paintings.

So he waits.

_Day 11_

The absence of Yuzu is so huge and powerful that it’s turning into a presence.

_Day 10_

Fortunately, Javi’s window overlooks the entrance of the hotel, its small parking lot and the two flowerbeds trying to make you forget that there’s a highway just a few meters away.

Unfortunately, it’s on the fourth floor.

Every day, Yuzu comes here. Not always at the same time: it can be in the morning, before his first practice, or in the afternoon, after his second practice, or in the evening. He calls Javi when he gets here, and Javi rushes and looks out of the window, and Yuzu is there.

They need to talk on the phone, if they want to hear what they say without shouting, and it’s a bit weird, but it’s okay too, it’s so very okay.

Yuzu is wearing his custom-made mask and latex gloves and that funny cap of him; he always takes his visor off, though, and Javi can see his eyes – dark and piercing when Yuzu tells Javi how much he longs for him, arched in two crescents when Yuzu laughs, shining with tears when they count down the days they still have to live like this.

Javi moves his fingertips in the air, imagining he’s touching the smooth skin of Yuzu’s cheekbones. Yuzu closes his eyes, as if sensing Javi’s touch.

It’s so very okay; and so very painful.

_Day 8_

Sometimes they stop talking on the phone and shout. Important words, silly jokes, even nonsense.

Just to hear their voices fly in the air and meet – and it’s a bit like hugging.

_Day 6_

Javi tries to stick to a quite strict daily routine.

Waking up, showering, having breakfast, taking his temperature, doing some exercise, walking to the parlor to talk with someone who’s not his own reflection in the mirror. He watches some TV, he listens to some music. He even tries to create some choreographies, but no matter which song he chooses, no matter which movements he does, which steps he takes, all his choreographies are always the same. A story of longing and waiting.

Then Yuzu calls, and Javi rushes to the window. Finally, finally.

_Day 4_

“Go to window and look down.”

Javi doesn’t want to go anywhere, he wants to lie in bed until tomorrow: today Yuzu can’t come. But he’s not able to say no to Yuzu, even when Yuzu’s not there, so he closes Yuzu’s text, gets up, goes to the window and looks down.

On the tarmac there’s a painting made with colored chalks. Bees and skates and sakura flowers and snowflakes and Orion’s Belt and Winny the Pooh and a calico cat, and it’s like reading – no, it’s like hearing Yuzu’s voice whisper “I love you” right into his ear.

Javi cries, for a long while. Then he spends a much longer time writing silly love words on all the paper sheets he can find in his room and in each room on his floor.

_Day 3_

It takes Yuzu ten minutes to pick up all the paper airplanes Javi has thrown out of his window. Then he sits crossed-legged in the middle of his fading painting, and reads.

_Day 1_

Tomorrow he will go home.

So today he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

_Day 0_

The car is running through Toronto.

They cling to each other.

Ten kilometers and they’ll be home.

They cling to each other.

Nine, eight, seven.

They cling to each other

_Now_

At the beginning, Effie looked indignant at his long absence; now, she’s sound asleep on his feet. Javi doesn’t mind; in fact, he likes it. His home, his bed, his cat on his feet. Yuzu in his arms.

“Why there isn’t a device to record smells? We can record sounds, images… but for smells we can only rely on our memory. It’s not fair.”

“Well, memory can make smells more good than in real life. No so bad, mhm?”

“I can remember or dream of a thousand smells, nene, and still _no_ smell can be better than _your_ smell.”

“Cheeeeeeeeeesy Habi.”

“I’m not cheesy. Just objective.”

They’re naked, skin to skin, since countless hours. Tired and serene after cuddling, talking, making love, napping, laughing, petting Effie, making love again, and singing, and kissing. Javi gently strokes his nose against Yuzu’s nose, temple, ear. Yuzu’s hair makes his nose itch, and he giggles.

“You know what’s happiness, nene?”

“Yes.” Yuzu’s breath is so warm on Javi’s neck. “Happiness is Habi.”

“No. Happiness is an itching nose.”

“Uh?” Yuzu moves away – just a bit, to look better at Javi. “What you saying?”

Yuzu’s beautiful face is perplexed. A lock of his hair stands out like a black antenna, the skin around his mouth is a vivid pink after scrubbing against Javi’s stubble. Javi has never seen anyone more adorable – anyone he adores more.

“Oh, nene,” he chuckles, then reaches for Yuzu’s nape and pulls him down, against his chest. “I said I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you LadyLightning, my wonderful beta, for your help. Thank you Estriel for your lovely fics. Thank you Emilia_Kaisa for your support. And thank you all for reading!


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